


Photographs

by Cruxite_Created



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Breaking and Entering, Bro is a terrible influence, Car Accidents, Childhood Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Drunken Shenanigans, Humanstuck, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Karkat's Family Sucks, Kidnapping, Love Letters, M/M, Obsession, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Stalking, Stockholm, Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cruxite_Created/pseuds/Cruxite_Created
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Click Click. </p>
<p>'Perfect,' he thought as he looked down at the picture. The man was sleeping, bathed in a soft light from his bedside lamp. Even on the small screen, Dave could easily count out every freckle that patterned the beautiful mocha skin. 'He's all mine, whether he knows it or not.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody, this is my first ever posted fan fiction. I'll be posting as often as I can, which will probably be every few days. Please let me know what you think of the story and if you find any grammar/spelling mistakes, please tell me so I can fix the problem. I'm also sorry if Dave is a bit ooc, I am trying to make him a creepy little shit while keeping that Strider charm.

It was the boy's eyes that he had seen first. They were light gray surrounded by a darker grayish-brown circling the outside of the iris that almost looked red in a certain light. These strange gray eyes were encircled by dense, black eyelashes. The boy had mocha skin that was pepper liberally with freckles and a scowl that almost seemed beautiful on his face. He had a prominent, straight nose adorned with a hardly noticeable ring on the right side. The man retracted a hand from his laptop to push his thick, chocolate brown hair back before going back to furiously typing. 

Dave sat at a table in front of him, and stared trying to take in every part of his appearance. Quietly, the blond took his phone out and, after making sure the flash was off, began taking pictures of him. Taking a sip of coffee, Dave discretely spied on the young man from behind his phone. 'Absolutely perfect,' was the only thought that echoed through the albino's head. 'A gorgeous specimen.'

With an angry sigh, the gray eyed boy slammed his laptop shut and started packing up his stuff. Dave watched as he stopped to talk to the tall, model-esque barista. 

"Ok, I've gotta go meet up with the juggalo-fuck, but I'll stop by tomorrow ok, Kanaya?" the boy said. His voice was deep and gruff, the perfect mixture, Dave thought as shivers marched proudly down his spine. 

"Of course, Karkat," the beautiful barista replied. "I assume you'll be by around the same time?"

"Yeah, probably. And I'll bring back your copy of…" Dave had stopped paying attention to what was being said. He was intently watching the gorgeous man, Karkat, and thought of how lucky he was to witness this moment. Karkat would be here tomorrow and Dave was determined to make sure he was too. In fact, he'd even bring his camera to get som better shots of him. 

Briefly, he pauses to think of the name. Karkat. Somehow, it was perfect, with the way it rolled off his tongue. It fit him too, nearly as exotic as himself. 

After Dave finished his coffee, he walked out of the small café. On his walk back to his apartment he kept an eye out for any sign of Karkat, that was of course before scoffing at the thought. Once home, the pale man gave no issue with kicking his shoes off and throwing his backpack on the couch. Flopping himself down on the black leather, he pulled out his computer, happy to see the pictures from his phone had synced to his laptop. With a small smile, much different than the usual patented Strider smirk, he admired the light-skinned beauty. 

He didn't quite understand why he did it, but soon Dave found himself taping the printed out photos on the wall of his bedroom. With a sigh, he silently thanked whatever deity may be listening that he lived on his own. Throwing himself on his bed, he stared at the small masterpiece he had arranged. 

*****

The next morning, Dave had arisen early and got ready. It was not uncommon for the blond to put effort into his appearance, but today was another thing all together. Today he was going to see Karkat again. Carefully, he styled his hair and picked out his clothes. After several minutes of this, he looked in the mirror, perfect poker face intact. "Damn," he said to his reflection. "You look good, man. Gonna have that boy all swooning and shit. Who needs Romeo when they have Dave fucking Strider?"

Picking up his camera, he left the apartment, locking the door. On the way out of the apartment building, he looked at his phone, checking the time. 'Perfect,' he thought. 'I should be there 15 minutes earlier than yesterday.' Dave arrived right at the estimated time and saw Karkat entering right in front of him. For a spilt second, Dave let a smile break over his face. 

Entering the small shop, he stood behind the perfect man in line for the coffee counter. Discretely, Dave turned on his camera and took a picture of the back of the man. After a moment of making sure that had gone unnoticed, he lifted the camera slightly, focused it and snapped a photo of the choice ass in front of him. 'Damn, the way those jeans fit is sinful. I bet the pope would have a heart attack seeing that ass. I wonder if Karkat bursts into flames after entering a church, because that is pure sin. 100% organic booty,' he thought absentmindedly moving through the shop. 

Soon, Dave had his coffee and was sitting at a table in front of the terribly good looking young man. He had his camera sitting on the table, ready for action. He was not disappointed, seeing as the divine being sitting at the other table suddenly straightened up, lifting his hands over his head into a stretch. This action cause the boy's thick, black sweater to lift up, revealing the smooth, mocha expanse of skin spanning his abdomen. Faster than light, Dave snapped a photo. 

By the time Karkat stood to leave, Dave had 100-something photos of the sweater clad man. He watched Karkat exit, and after a moment, he did as well. Catching sight of messy, brown hair and a black sweater, Dave followed.


	2. Following

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave didn't understand why he was following the boy or why he thought it'd be a good idea. Yet here we was, watching Karkat enter the house that absolutely reeked of weed and had cheap soda bottles littered through out the lawn.

Dave didn't understand why he was following the boy or why he thought it'd be a good idea. Yet here we was, watching Karkat enter the house that absolutely reeked of weed and had cheap soda bottles littered through out the lawn. 

After the sweater clad man had slammed the door shut Dave went up to the house. The smell of marijuana only got stronger, and after looking through the window of the trashed house, he could see a thick fog in the house. Someone was seriously lived by the saying "smoke weed everyday". 

"Gamzee, are you fucking kidding me?" Dave could hear Karkat say. "Why in the ever loving fuck would you think it's a good damn idea to get high off your ass now of all times? What happened to the rent, you ass-wipe?"

"Karbro," another voice replied, in a gruff, drawling tone. "Why are you all up and motherfucking worrying? We got plenty of motherfucking money. I was only all up and getting my relax on." 

As interesting as this back and forth between the two was turning out to be, Dave would rather be listening from somewhere he could watch Karkat get all huffy and upset. Picking his way through the paint splattered, glass riddled grass of the back yard, he found an open basement window. Ok, so maybe it wasn't open per-se, but it was unlocked and that was good enough for him. 

Squeezing through the window, Dave found himself in a dusty basement that was filled to the point of nearly over flowing with random shit. Silently, just the way he was always taught, he climbed the rickety stairs to the doorway. He came out into the kitchen and immediately opened a window, in case he needed a quick route out. 

Now that he was upstairs, he could tell just how loud Karkat's yelling was. 'At least it'll be easier to tell where he is,' Dave thought as he picked through the clutter of the kitchen, ignoring the ornate bong sitting like a goddamn center piece on the table. Once he made it over to the counter, he saw a pile of mail. 

After taking a quick look around the room, he deftly flipped through the mail. Rent, bills, random advertisements, letters from family, all the usual suspects. And the one thing they all shared in common was being addressed to one Karkat Vantas. Dave stared at the name, burning it into his memory, when he heard stomping. Footsteps leading ever further down the hall towards what looked like a staircase going up to a second level. And climbing those stairs was no other than the celestial being that led Dave here in the first place. 

Dave followed up the stairs, sticking to walls like a shadow, an extremely pale shadow. He watched as Karkat entered a room that he presumed was his. It was painted gray and seemed to have some posters on the wall. From out in the hall, Dave could see that the window was facing out towards the street, which meant it was a window that was easy to climb up to. Not that he'd even think of something like breaking in again. 

After watching Karkat from the hallway outside his bedroom for an hour, of course taking pictures during that time, Dave figured it was time to leave. If he stayed any longer he may get caught. Carefully peeling himself from the wall, Dave walked back to the kitchen and slipped out through the window. He had no doubt that he smelt like Snoop Dogg's wet dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am just really feeling this at the moment. I already have every chapter pretty much figured out, so I don't think you'll have to wait long. Also, I really want to get to the later chapters 'cause shit goes down. And I just wanted to thank everyone for reading this it means a lot! Stalker Daves for everyone!


	3. Nightly Visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How long had it been since that day in the small café? 'Exactly three months, four days, and 10 hours,' Dave thought to himself as he watched the sleeping figure in front of him. The subject of his affections was curled up under a pile of blankets and a soft, sepia light was thrown over the room from the lamp on the bedside table. 
> 
> Dave gave a rare smile as he silently took pictures of the boy.

How long had it been since that day in the small café? 'Exactly three months, four days, and 10 hours,' Dave thought to himself as he watched the sleeping figure in front of him. The subject of his affections was curled up under a pile of blankets and a soft, sepia light was thrown over the room from the lamp on the bedside table. 

Dave gave a rare smile as he silently took pictures of the boy. Nothing could make him quiet as happy as this did. Karkat was perfect in every sense of the word, and nothing could convince Dave otherwise. Lifting the collar of the sweater he was wearing up to his nose, he inhaled heavily before letting out a silent sigh of contentment. If there was one thing that out his late night visits to the was that he could always snatch one of these. 

Dave was actually disappointed in himself for not thinking of it sooner. Around twice a week, he'd "borrow" one of the thick, black sweaters, wearing it for a few days before returning it to be washed. Just one of his guilty pleasures that always made him feel near his beloved. 

Sweaters weren't the only things he took though. Rather often, Strider would find himself grabbing movies or books off the shelves in the gray room and slipping them into his backpack. Now, rom-coms weren't exactly what would be deemed Strider worthy, but if Karkat watched them, he would as well. Some of the things that were taken weren't as innocent and menial as that, seeing as Dave had recently found that he had procured a copy of the house key. Needless to say, he was no longer climbing to get into the room. 

Standing up from the desk chair, the albino raised his arms over his head in a spine-cracking stretch. With the stealth of a goddamn ninja, he kept out the door and down the stairs. Once he was out the front door, he locked it and taped a note to it addressed to Karkat Vantas. Smirking he walking down the dark early morning street back to his apartment to get a few hours of sleep before he was scheduled to be at the café. 

****

Dave was already seated and drinking his coffee when Karkat stormed into the café, deep brown cheeks burning with blood. The usual scowl was present on his face but a bit softer than average. 

As the young man walked up to the counter the tall, fashionable barista that he always talked with glided out from behind the counter over to him. Coffee in hand she lead him over to a table. Upon sitting and whispering to each other, Karkat pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and push it towards the girl. From the angle at which she was holding, Dave could see it was the letter he left. The page was filled to the point where there was no space on it blank with messy, angled handwriting. 

The barista must of said something to Karkat, because not to long after she put the paper down, he groaned and flopped his head on the table. The blush that had covered his face only got more intense and he could no longer fight the smile that pulled at his mouth (presumably why he chose to slam his head on the table). 

Dave smirked, looking at the effect his words had on the freckled man. It was perfect. 'I'm so damn smooth, I should be in one of those sappy romance novels he's always reading. I'd lay down loving like he was Anastasia Steele and I am of course Mr. Christian Grey.' Dave thought smugly. Taking another sip of his coffee, he snapped a few pictures of the two. 

After an hour or so (hour and 15 minutes to be precise) Dave followed after a leaving Karkat. The man had headed to a city park, which made Dave's face break out into a shit-eating grin. Not only was it normal for people to watch each other in parks, but it was also normal to have a camera and take pictures of everyone and everything. 

After another half hour in the park, the beautiful man stood to leave and Dave decided it was best to go home now. After all he had a collage to expand upon, seeing as he was to tired to once he got home from a late night of watching over his precious little sinnamon roll. 

127 new photos had been added to the wall. And that wasn't even all the photos he had taken, those were only the best ones. Dave stared in awe at the artwork, feeling slightly worried over the fact that he had added so many new pictures. The wall 8 feet tall and 11 feet wide, but by now over three quarters of it was filled with photographs of the reading/eating/drinking/movie watching/sleeping beauty that was Karkat Vantas. Dave didn't know what to think, but one thing he knew for sure was that this was fucked harder than the weird porn Bro watched when he was younger. 

Thinking about how late he'd be out, Dave decided the best course of action would be to take a nap. That way he'd be able to visit Karkat without falling asleep. When it came to him there was no time that was invaluable. And wasting precious photo opportunities was a sin. More of a sin than the sweet junk in Vantas' trunk. 

****

After he had scoped out the house to make sure there were no lights on, Dave scurried around to the front and slipped the key into the lock. Opening the door, he paused for a moment to see if he heard any signs of life. Nothing aside from the obnoxious snoring of Karkat's roommate, Gamzee. Gliding through the house and up the stairs, he entered Karkat's room. 

Hours had passed of Dave sitting there and staring at the peaceful, sleeping face of Karkat. All the while he had been taking pictures and writing another letter. Looking at the time, Strider figured it was probably time he left. With the stealth of a professional cat burglar, he left the house, taping a letter to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you for all the support I've received from you guys! Y'all are awesome! I'm glad that you all found this story worthy of reading! <3


	4. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was freezing outside, for Texas' standards and Dave had just gotten home from school after walking nearly three miles. His face was numb and his nose redder than Rudolf's. Upon finally making it up the stairs, he discovered that Bro had locked the door, leaving a small, red present on the door mat outside of the apartment. Attached to the gift was a note, 'Hey, Little Man, happy birthday. I decided it was time you learned this, seeing as it is the most important skill you'll ever learn, aside from dropping sick beats. I will not let you in the house until you learn how to properly use it. Signed, Bro.'
> 
> Tearing apart the wrapping paper, Dave found a lock pick. This would be an interesting birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so quick trigger warning: this chapter will feature child abuse, Bro being not only a raging bitch but also a terrible influence, more breaking and enter (though that'll be in every chapter pretty much), bullying, recreational drug use, homophobic slurs, and Dave hating his life but being pretty cool about it. 
> 
> Aside from serious stuff (though this is a huge deal for me!!), I just wanted to thank everyone for their continued support of this fic! It absolutely makes my day to see your comments! Y'all are seriously too good for me and I don't deserve it, but I sure as hell appreciate it!! We have 16 chapters left before this is over and I hope you guy's enjoy it!

It was freezing outside, for Texas' standards and Dave had just gotten home from school after walking nearly three miles. His face was numb and his nose redder than Rudolf's. Upon finally making it up the stairs, he discovered that Bro had locked the door, leaving a small, red present on the door mat outside of the apartment. Attached to the gift was a note, 'Hey, Little Man, happy birthday. I decided it was time you learned this, seeing as it is the most important skill you'll ever learn, aside from dropping sick beats. I will not let you in the house until you learn how to properly use it. Signed, Bro.' 

Tearing apart the wrapping paper, Dave found a lock pick. This would be an interesting birthday. 

It took Dave three hours before he could finally figure out how to work the damn things. They were literally just seven metal rods with weird shapes on the end that were used to lift the internal gears of the lock. Nothing in the eight years of life he had lived this far had been so damn hard. It took the upwards of an hour just to find the right ones to shove in the fucking lock and two more of shaking and shimming them around to finally get the lock to click open. Throwing the door open, he fell into the apartment, shrugging off his jacket and throwing his shoes at the wall of the hallway. Walking in to the living room, he saw a rather agitated Bro, though most people wouldn't have realized given the neutral setting of his face. "So, Little Man, you finally got it," he said standing up from the couch. "The only thing I don't understand, is why it took you so damn long." Then Bro was behind him, without any warning. The young albino could feel a blade pressed against his neck and it took all the strength he could muster not to shake. His eyes widened from behind his shades and his breathing became erratic as Bro pulled the katana away from his pale flesh. Grabbing Dave by the back of the shirt, Bro pulled him off his feet and pushed him out the apartment door. Closing it, he said with a smugness that made Dave sick, "I suppose you'll just need some more practice." And with that the the door was locked once again. 

**** 

Dave silently followed after that shadow that was his older brother. Both the Striders were dressed in long black trench coats, black ski masks, and blue latex gloves. On his back, Dave carried about two pounds of jewelry from a house they had just came out of. The jewelry was miscellaneous necklaces and bracelets of gold and silver all tangled together from the last six houses and apartment they had visited. after a half hour of walking through the back alleys and deserted roads of the city, the two Striders had finally reached the pawn shop where they'd be able to sell all the loot they had plundered. 

After having to wait outside for 20 minutes trying to fend off the staring eyes of the city vagrants and tweaks, Bro at last exited the pawn shop, a thick wad of cash in hand. Looking at Dave he gave a quick half smile before pulling a 10 out of the stack and handing it to him. "Here ya' go, Little Man, for all the good work you did." Dave nodded, pocketing the cash, know that for now he could call it is his, but after a week Bro would be coming to him, sweating and shaking with a perfectly straight face after his stash ran low. The two walked together, through some more sketchy looking parts of town before they finally got to their destination. 

This place was probably the shadiest of all. It was a small run down shack of a home, littered with various tags and graffiti drawings. The roof was sagging, almost as if blowing out a heavy sigh of disappointment that this was the life it was forced to endure. The windows had been broken, a thin layer of cling wrap covering were glass once was, and the screen door was hanging off the hinges and squeaking precariously. The concrete of the stairs had started to crumble away and there were cigarette butts strewn everywhere. The grass was brown and dead and there were weeds over taking the lawn. Walking up to the front door, Dave could see there was a light on inside and a thick fog, probably from a bong or hookah. 

The inside of the house was just as fucked up as the front, Dave observed as he and Bro walked in the door. The air had a thick, spunky smell and the floor had cheetos and beer cans spread across it, along with some stains the looked suspiciously like vomit. The young kid watched as Bro went up to a tall man with a thick mane of black hair and the scariest damn faceprint he'd ever seen. Bro and the man shook hands with each other, talking about something Dave already had an idea of and didn't care listening to. Quietly, he stood by the door and waited, watching as a kid with the same thick hair and gray and white face paint took hits off the bong, blowing O's into the air. Dave wasn't at all surprised by the fact that the kid was nearly the same age as him, this was normal in his eyes.

Dave didn't have to wait too long. In a matter of minutes the money had been exchanged for a Ziploc bag filled with white powder. With deft, yet slightly trembling fingers, Bro dipped his hand in and pulled out a pinch if the powder, bringing it up to his nose. After a large inhale, Bro smiled, patting the giant on the back. "Always a pleasure doin' business with ya', Makara." He drawled in his strong southern accent.

****

Dave stared at his reflection in the mirror. Paper white skin was covered in purple-yellow bruises and scanned over gashes. Slipping off his shades, the swollen black eye he had received in his last strife with Bro was fully visible. 

Further along his body there were obvious scars, where the pale flesh was puckered and permanently pink. He didn't react much to pain anymore, hell he didn't react to anything much anymore. 

He could always tell which bruises he'd gotten from who. Bro's marks were darker and covered a wider area than the ones from the kids Dave went to school with. The kids in his grade hardly ever got him to bleed either, which seemed like it was one of Bro's favorite pastimes. 

Quickly with a skill that spoke years of experience, he cleaned the wounds. It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. 

****

"Fuckin' faggot." "Goddamn albino freak…" "Oh it's that loser." "Freak…loser…mistake…" these were all the things Dave heard on a daily basis. These pretentious assholes made it their live goal to tell how big if mistake he was. 'Their probably the cum shit their moms wish they had swallowed,' he bitterly thought to himself. 

It wasn't like the name calling hurt him -he could really care less- it just got a bit boring hearing the same few insults thrusters in face like they were brand new Gucci shoes or some shit. It's not like he could control the fact that he was whiter than fresh snow or that his eyes were literally redder than the devil's. But sometimes all the sick fucking Strider genes come back to bite you in the plush ass they had bestowed upon you. 

At a young age, Dave had mastered the art of not only being able to piss people the fuck off with the best damn poker face, but also the skill of being able to weird them the hell out in an argument. 

"Hey, whitey, how 'bout ya' stop for a second? I wanna fuckin' tell ya' who's boss here." Some redneck asshole had stepped out in front of him, cornering him the stair case. 

"Oh, I'm so scared of some backwoods fuck. I bet you probably screw your sister on a daily basis, but your sister is actually your mom. And your great aunt. And I'm really your great great grandfather. And the reason for that is everyone, even your incestuous family, would die for a helping pure, organic Strider ass." Dave replied, face straighter than a ruler. 

Silence. That's the only thing that hung in the stairs. Shoving the bully and his friends out of the way, Dave absconded, not wanting to get in anymore fights. 

****

It was the last month of 11th grade for Dave school was finally over for the day. It sweltering hot outside, as was expected from an early summer day in Texas, and Dave had just finished the climb up the 13 flight staircase. Opening the door, he heard the T.V. playing and muffled sobs coming from the living room. 

Upon entering the room, he found that there was a girl about his age sitting on the futon. She was tied up and gagged with tears streaming down her face. Bro sat next to her, eating a bag of Doritos. 

"Little Man, you're home."

"Yeah," Dave replied. "Who's she?"

"This here is a little business endeavor. She won't be here long," Bro stated nonchalantly. At hearing his words, the girl trembled, sobs wracking her body. 

"What is she rich or something?"

"Nah, but she'll sell for a good price," Bro claimed, shoving a fistful of Doritos in his mouth. Shrugging, Dave walked to his bedroom and closed the door. He decided fucking around with his turntables would be the best way to drown out the crying if the girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I'm not so sure how I like this chapter. It's really needed so you can see Dave's character development for this story, but it was just a little weird to write. I hope that it didn't suck or anything. I'll have a new chapter up tomorrow also, so I hope that'll make up for this chapter...


	5. Love Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat's hands shook as he looked through the pictures that were included with the letter he had gotten so used to receiving. The photo were great quality, hell they almost looked professional and he would be impressed. That is if they didn't have his sleeping face plastered on them…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick forward: this is a Karkat-centered chapter, seeing as I just felt it would flow better. Also I would like to thank everyone for their support and I say this every damn day, but y'all really keep me fucking motivated to ignore the real world and continue to upload these. DaveKat is the only OTP I need in my life and thus socializing is way lower on the scale of importance compared to my addiction of gay boys being gay. Which is only slightly above my addiction to "murder porn" TV shows, thus the birth of this contorted, failed launch of a stalker fic missile. It was shooting for the moon, but due to slight miscalculations it's flown into the sun. That's why it's so hot. I lost where I was going with this…anyway thanks! <3 love you!

Karkat's hands shook as he looked through the pictures that were included with the letter he had gotten so used to receiving. The photo were great quality, hell they almost looked professional and he would be impressed. That is if they didn't have his sleeping face plastered on them…

Dropping the letter and photographs like they were on fire, Karkat shoved his hand in his pockets, fumbling to pull out his phone. His face had gone near white and his whole body was trembling with the force of an earthquake. Punching in the numbers as well as he could, he dialed the police. His voice was heavy and hoarse, cracking over nearly every word as he told the dispatcher what was going on. Pressing a hand over his mouth, he forced himself to hold back the sobs of terror that we're threatening to spill out. The dispatcher told Karkat that a police unit should be at his home in twenty minutes, and despite the situation, he thanked God Gamzee wasn't home. 

After the call to the dispatcher ended, Karkat collapsed in on himself, sobbing into the thick fabric of his sweater. Curling up in a fetal ball on the kitchen floor, he saw the letter near his head. A wave of pure panic washed over him and he shoved it way as quick as possible while also scrambling backwards at the speed of light. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and clenched his fists, digging his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. 

Hs started calming down a bit when he heard sirens in the distance. Briefly, he thought he saw a flash of white outside the window of the kitchen and couldn't help but resume shaking. He stayed in that position, staring at the window until he could see red and blue lights filling his house and hear a knocking at the door. Standing up he opened the door and stood aside to let the two officers in. Leading them to the kitchen he reiterated his story and they did a quick search of the house before taking the letter and photographs for evidence. 

****

Karkat had temporarily moved in with Kanaya while the investigation took place. Not only had the police suggested it as a good idea, but he always just felt safer and more comfortable around her. He knew that if that sick fuck tried anything, she would pull the chainsaw she kept in her closet out and cut them to pieces. To be honest though, Karkat had no idea why she even had a chainsaw. 

Flopping onto the bed in the guest room he sighed staring up at the ceiling. It was late, but he hardly slept more than a two hours a night anymore. Plus he drank more coffee than could possibly be good for him, seeing as he was constantly at the café where Kanaya was employed. With a groan, he decided watching a movie was the best way to alleviate some of his stress. Pulling out his laptop from under a pile of books, he put on 'Fifty First Dates' in the hope that such a perfect and classic rom-com would allow him to peacefully drift off to sleep. 

****

Karkat had been staying with Kanaya for two months now and he had finally gotten his sleeping schedule somewhat back to normal. The police still had no leads in the case and, despite testimonies from many of Karkat's friends saying they had no idea this was going on, they were leaning towards it being a prank that had gone too far. If that was the case, he was just glad the letters had stopped coming. He still thought he could see someone out the corner of his eye no and again, but it was impossible for somebody to move that fast, so he chalked it up to being paranoia and nerves. 

After another month and a half of investigating the police tell Karkat that they have to call the investigation off. He is now allowed to go back home and he happily takes up that offer, thanking Kanaya a million times before booking it the hell out of there. 

Once home, he destroys ever letter from that secret admirer, not wanting any reminders of this incident. Smugly, he watches as the flames grow higher while this portion of his life turns to dust in front of him.


	6. Points of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave sat in Karkat's spinning desk chair as the man slept. 'This is the way it should be,' Dave thought as he reached over gently brushing the hair out of Karkat's face. 'You being mine and me being yours.' And with one quick motion, Strider was carefully pressing his lips to the others before disappearing from the room.

Dave sat in Karkat's spinning desk chair as the man slept. 'This is the way it should be,' Dave thought as he reached over gently brushing the hair out of Karkat's face. 'You being mine and me being yours.' And with one quick motion, Strider was carefully pressing his lips to the others before disappearing from the room. 

The wake home was cold, but nothing Dave couldn't handle. Mainly due to the fact that he was wearing one of those thick, black sweaters that Karkat owned like twenty of. It was incredibly warm and soft, along with smelling just like him, there were no down sides to the sweaters he stole.

Dave pulled open the door to his apartment and tugged the camera off from around his neck. Another night, another thousand pictures taken, another hundred or so of them being taped up. By now the wall was completely filled and he was starting on the second. His room was becoming a fucking shrine to the pure perfection that is Karkat Vantas. 

****

Dave loved being able to be around Karkat nearly every hour of the day. It was set, it was rhythm. Though he loved it, he could still feel the repetitiveness of it. He had watch every movie Karkat own, read every book, worn every sweater. And while he was around Karkat everyday, he was unnoticed, a ghost. 

Dave hated being ignored, it usually meant something bad, although with Bro having kicked the bucket bad things rarely happened. So he started making plans. He wanted to woo the man, sweep him off his feet and become a permanent feature in his world. Of course, he also didn't want Karkat to know of the stalking that took place prior the wooing. 

It was harder than he thought, and this is coming from the guy who was watching romance movies "borrowed" from the man he loved for the past half a year. He wished it was as easy as that, bumping into each other cliche hand touch if awkwardness then hot sex. But it wasn't, Karkat wasn't that easy, he was challenging, crude, and argumentative. "Of course, that wouldn't make the proposed sex any less hot," Dave mumbled. "He's probably really vocal and he's got nice lips, look like they'd be great for all sorts of-wait…why am I talking about this?" He shook his head as if it would clear the visuals he had practically super glued there. 

****

Two weeks had passed since Dave decide to woo the pants of Vantas, so far he'd accomplished nothing. The guy barely fucking looked at him, for Christ's sakes. He'd tried initiating six different conversations and even bought him a god damn cupcake. The response he got? A perfectly arched brow raised and full lips pulled into a sneer. Apparently, Karkat was unappreciative of the effort that went into romancing someone you stalked. 

Hell, Dave was starting to think the better alternative was to go up and recite every word of those damn love letters. At least then he'd get some damn attention. Even if it wasn't the good kind, he wouldn't mind, he was raised on abuse. 

However he just tried more conversations. He switched it up between cupcakes, cookies, muffins and other confectionaries. Still the same response. Dejectedly, Strider returned to his coffee and mulled over more ideas. 

****

Dave had recently become attached to the idea of forgetting Karkat. And he tried damn hard. He would go out, get drunk and find some random soul to go to bed with. No matter who it was though, he still found his mind filled with Karkat. 

Some kid named John was the first one. The boy had blue eyes, black hair and a big buck toothed smile. He was cute, funny and damn was he good with his mouth despite muttering "no homo" every ten fucking seconds. That's what turned Dave off, so he decided to pound the kid into a wall, eyes closed, pretending he was Karkat. 

Next was a girl, Harely was her name. She was pretty, with long hair and green eyes. But her voice was grating and her nails were fucking talons. She also would not shut up, using dog and furry terminology in the dirty talk. Needless to say, that didn't work out. 

Everyone was the same they blended together in a cesspool of shit-that-wasn't-as-good-as-Karkat-and-made-Dave-sick-to-his-stomach. It was the literal worst. Dave was stuck. He couldn't forget Karkat but couldn't get him to fucking notice him either. Giving up, Dave flopped into bed and slept for a good forty hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody for your support you keep me going!! But a quick warning for the next chapter, which will be up tomorrow: Karkat makes dumb decisions, Dave gets pissed and thus we have shit going down faster than a tree in a forest. I hope y'all enjoy it!! <3


	7. Of The Mistakes To Be Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat smiled at his phone, typing with a speed that would put Usain Bolt to shame. Picking up the beer by his hand, he took a sip. He couldn't wait to shove the letter ordeal behind him and forget it had ever happened. Book closed, chapter ended, pages burned. Done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so really quickly want to say that Karkat makes horrible decisions. Dave gets really pissed. Shit doesn't actually get real though. It's still just a little animated shit. Next few chapters you'll see that shit in live action on the big screen. Realer than organic produce. 
> 
> Other than that…thank you everyone for you're support and the kudos and comments and bookmarks and everything. I feel so loved. And that's a lot coming from me because I am a needy, clingy human being. You all deserve much better than me.

Karkat smiled at his phone, typing with a speed that would put Usain Bolt to shame. Picking up the beer by his hand, he took a sip. He couldn't wait to shove the letter ordeal behind him and forget it had ever happened. Book closed, chapter ended, pages burned. Done. 

He didn't have to wait long. A tall, thin man walked over to the table Karkat had chosen and sat down. "Hey, you're KK, right? 'Cuz if not that'd be awkward." The guy, Sollux, had a slight lisp, probably due to the small underbite he had. Over all, he wasn't a terrible looking guy. He had short black hair and soft beige skin. His eyes were two different colors, the left being blue and the right eye being a honey color. He wore stupid red and blue glasses, but somehow is worked for him. 

With a slight blush (that thankful couldn't be seen in the darkness of the bar) Karkat forced out a "yeah". Sollux chuckled and orders a Jack Daniel's Tennessee Honey. They sat there making small talk for a good hour. Karkat had learned that Sollux was a computer programmer with Google and that he'd designed a few games, selling them on Steam. The guy also had a beehive. A. Fucking. Beehive. 

After another hour or so of seeing who could drink the most alcohol and tell the worst jokes, Sollux leaned across the table. He got as closer to Karkat as he could, before practically climbing his skinny ass up on the table to get in his face. Clumsily, with the confidence only the inebriated had, he pressed a kiss against Karkat's lips. 

They left. Not together. Not yet. But they planned to some time. They made a plan to meet up tomorrow for some coffee to help fuck the hungover out their systems with a little caffeine. 

****

Dave was about to fucking blow. Pure, white hot rage poured through his veins instead of blood. He had bite the inside of his cheek to keep the emotion from showing on his face, to keep from screaming and strangling the lanky fucker. 

Strider had followed Karkat to the bar. 'This is a great idea,' he thought to himself. 'Now I can try to talk to him and buy him a drink under the guise of being drunk. Maybe he won't be a fucking ice queen this time.' No such luck. Dave sat a few away from the man, sipping on a rum and coke, simply staring. He was busy on his phone, doing god knows what. 'Whatever, I'll wait a little bit.' And he was cool. 

That is until some tall, lanky asshole walked up and sat his flat ass down in front of Karkat. Dave wasn't bothered by that though, no. Why would he be? It's not like the guy would get anywhere. He was probably some random guy who saw a beautiful creature sitting all alone. 

Dave couldn't have been more off the mark if he tried. Soon they were laughing, drinking, talking. Karkat actually gave they guy the time of fucking day. Dave had been trying for seVEN GOD DAMN MONTHS to have a conversation with the guy. Yet this heterochromatic dickmuncher can just waltz on in and get him talking. This fucker actually made Karkat laugh. 

Dave had just about had enough, he was at the boiling point. Then it got even fucking better. That assfucker decided he had the right to kiss Karkat fucking Vantas. Dave had never experienced this much hatred in his life, and he grew up being treated like damn punching bag his entire life. 

Slamming his glass down on the table, shattering it in the process, he turned on his heel and stormed out if the building. Letting out a deep growl, he punched the brick wall. This was better, physical pain he could handle. He could handle the feeling of his knuckles splitting and blood running down his hand. 

****

Karkat stood outside the café waiting for Sollux. Luckily for him, Kanaya wasn't working today, so she could mother him. Looking to the ground he pressed his hand to his forehead trying to will the headache away. 

"Hey, KK." Sollux said wrapping his arms around the shorter man. Karkat grunted as they walked into the shop. They sat down together, awaiting their coffee after ordering and talked quietly. 

Their coffee had came twenty minutes ago but was promptly ignored in favor of the screen of Sollux's laptop. They sat extremely close to one another, knees brushing and hands nearly touching. Sollux was showing Karkat some of the basic of coding. They spent a good two hours like that, before they both went their separate ways, vowing to meet up tomorrow. 

****

It was just Dave's luck that Karkat had brought Lispy here. The one place he thought it would be safe. It wasn't. Apparently there was no regard for his feelings on the matter. 

The two sat entirely to close together. Dave's blood felt like fire, burning through every fiber of his being. He looked down at his fist. He traced the stitching he had done himself after returning home. He dug his nails under them, pulling, trying to distract himself from the feeling in his chest. 

Dave watched as the two left. He sat there for another three hours. He did nothing, just sat, tore his stitches, and listened to the quiet conversations around him and clicking of keys. Standing up, he walked home. If Karkat wanted to play this way that's how it'd be.


	8. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave moved the many boxes into the old farm house. It was a small place, a bit old, but overall pretty nice. It was an hour and a half outside of town and had quite a bit of land. Dave places the boxes inside what would serve as the master bedroom, walls already plastered with photos. It was starting to feel like home. And soon he'd have someone to share it with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a Dave being really weird chapter. He gets a new house for his lover. But it is going to be fairly creepy. Just sayin'. Anywho…thank you guys for everything!! Y'all keep me motivated!

Dave moved the many boxes into the old farm house. It was a small place, a bit old, but overall pretty nice. It was an hour and a half outside of town and had quite a bit of land. Dave places the boxes inside what would serve as the master bedroom, walls already plastered with photos. It was starting to feel like home. And soon he'd have someone to share it with.

It took Dave three hours to finally unpack everything and get it in it's place. It was starting to come together nicely, and the way the house looked made it seem as though he'd always lived there. With that done, Dave decided to start on his next project. 

The sounds of a power drill, metal clanking together, and dank beats filled the small house. In the master bedroom, Dave sat on the side of the bed closest to the wall, his pushing white hair up off his forehead. Vermillion eyes studied the iron chain secured to the wall. With a slight grunt, he stood and cleared any garbage and boxes out of the room. 

****

Dave wasted no time in preparing. All week he'd been in and out of the house. The kitchen was so stocked with food, it looked like he was preparing for the god damn apocalypse. The bedroom had a brand new flat screen tv and a mountain of every rom com he could get his hands onto. 

There was only one thing left to get. He sat in the living room scrolling through e-bay when he saw, gleaming like a lighthouse. It was legally sold chloroform for twenty bucks. Faster than his brain could process, Dave had placed a bid on it. 

**** 

Dave had to be careful when he went around Karkat's. More often than not, if it was day light, there was a lanky fucking nerd there. So only during the night could Dave visit. He was ok with it though, it was like before. 

Dave was watching as Karkat slept. He sighed as the boy tossed and turned feeling bad that he wasn't getting a good sleep. Reaching out from the side of the bed, he grabbed Karkat's hand. The boy stopped in his movement and seemed to relax. Dave could feel the smile stretch the impassive muscles of his face. 

He sat like that for hours, until the sun started streaming through the windows. Cursing, he stood and turned to leave. He felt a slight grip on his hand before it slipped away. His entire chest clenched and damn if this didn't feel like he was dying, he didn't know what did. Quietly, he made his way out of the house. 

****

A package had arrived at the new Strider residence and Dave nearly jumped for joy ironically. Taking it to the table he shoved aside some of the bags of Doritos that wouldn't fit in the cupboards and opened the box. The jug of chloroform was a bit bigger than Dave had originally thought. All the better. 

Dave started packing a backpack of things he may need. Rags, rope, blankets, blindfolds, all the usual stuff. Hell he even had an extra pair of socks. This was going to be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how shirt it is. I just needed it to kinda set up context I suppose. Also yes you can buy chloroform on e-bay. I know this from experience of looking for it on there. I never bought any though. I'm fucked up, but not that bad…


	9. Drugging Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat opened the door, entering the house and kicking off his shoes. Walking through the hallway to the stairs, he could hear shuffling up in his room. Rolling his eyes he sighed, and proceeded up the stairs. 
> 
> The second he entered his room, he wished he'd stayed out. A paper white hand was holding a foul smelling rag over his nose and mouth. He was pressed up against the mystery freak, unable to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Time for "Shit Gets Real: The Live Action Film" this is a big moment for me. I'm so glad that everyone seems to be enjoying this fic. At least I've only heard good things, which I'm cool as a cucumber about.

Karkat opened the door, entering the house and kicking off his shoes. Walking through the hallway to the stairs, he could hear shuffling up in his room. Rolling his eyes he sighed, and proceeded up the stairs. 

The second he entered his room, he wished he'd stayed out. A paper white hand was holding a foul smelling rag over his nose and mouth. He was pressed up against the mystery freak, unable to move. 

He had no choice but to breathe in the chemicals. No matter how hard he struggled, he had literally kicked the guy in the shin six times, he was held fast. His nose and lungs burned from the rank shit on the rag. The more he struggled the more he inhaled, and by now his vision was steadily blurring and going dark around the edges. And soon it was all just black. 

****

Karkat woke up in a soft bed, buried under a mound of blankets. Slowly, he rolls over to his side, facing the wall, and freezes. His wrist was heavy, much heavier than normal. His heart started pounding as he ripped his hand out from under the covers. 

A shackle. He was shackled to the damn wall. He tried to quietly see if he could losing the restraints at all. To no avail. The hard iron wouldn't budge, and it was tightly fit around his arm, preventing him from slipping his hand out. 

The fixture on the wall holding him in place was just as sturdy. After several minutes of trying to pull it away, he'd resorted to loudly attempting to break it of the wall by repeatedly hitting it with the manacle on his arm. 

At that moment the door swung open, revealing a tall, pale, white haired man wearing shades and a pink apron that said "Kiss The Cook" on it in a frilly, swooping font. In his hands, he held a tray that was stacked to the fucking ceiling with pancakes and had three glasses of apple juice on it. 

"You realize that's a hella big waste of time, right? Like a bigger waste of time than goin' up twenty flights of stairs when there's a workin' elevator to the left. I mean I understand, you wanna get that booty to be poppin' for your "fitness" Instagram page, but it's a waste of time. Because that ass is just in a picture."

Karkat stared at the guy in front of him, speechless. Not only had the guy made the most confusing and pointless rant/analogy, but he also recognized him. It was that guy from the café who always tried to get into his business. There he was, stone faced, standing in front of a wall of photos that Karkat decided he didn't want to study too closely. 

"Who the ass-shitting fuck do you think you are? And why in the hell am I here tied up?" Karkat growled, scowling at the man. Setting down the tray if food on the bed, the dickmunch pulled a chair up from the other side of the room. 

"Yeah, I guess you have a point there, sugar babe. My name is Dave Strider. The one and only, you can feel free to swoon if you want, most do. And as to what you're doing here, you're my kawaii waifu now. I have to be your knight in ironic shades and keep you safe from all the geeky dragon so we can ride off into the sugoi as fuck sunset."

Wow. Karkat was impressed. He'd never wanted to scoop his eyes out with a melon baller so damn bad. Which he made a point of saying. Along with adding some unique and colorful swears in there. It took awhile, but Dave had finally convinced him to eat at least some of the food. It wasn't bad, no matter how much he distrusted the guy, he'd have to play along until he could think of a plan to escape. 

****

Dave had at some point crawled up onto the bed with Karkat. They were sitting next to each other, a hair's breadth away, just barely not touching. Dave seemed to be careful about that, wanting Karkat to get used to his presence, but not to make more uncomfortable than he already was. 

The tv in the was playing "The Wedding Singer". Karkat immediately immersed himself in the world, anything to get him as far from this fucking up reality as possible. There was a bowl of popcorn sitting in between the two and he almost scoffed at the mockery of intimacy. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dave constantly glancing at him. From this angle he could see behind the shades and while his face was impassive, his red eyes showed uncertainty. 'As they fucking should. He should damn well know this is not how normal functioning people fucking handle their shitty issues,' Karkat fumed silently. 

Karkat laid down facing the wall. He was disgusted. So much so he couldn't even watch Adam Sandler from before his movies sucked hipster ass. Closing his eyes he willed himself to sleep. 

****

It was the exact same thing for the next week and a half. Luckily, Karkat was allowed to shower and change, seeing as his captor was kind enough to ransack his room. At least he had his own clothes though. The only downside to this was the bathroom locked from the outside (something Strider had probably "fixed") and there were no windows he could squeeze through. 

Strider and he had rarely talked. And when they did, Karkat hurled insults and quips faster than one of those tennis ball launcher things. Dave never seemed effected by them negatively, though. Fucking hell, most of the time they made him do that weird little almost smile Karkat hated so much. 

"Holy shit, bro," Strider said, his voice was deep with the hint of a laugh to it. "That's the funniest shit I've ever heard. You should be a stand up comedian or something. You'd be like a hotter, angrier Kevin Hart."

Everything he says infuriates him. Even the compliments or the things that would normally make his heart pump a little harder and butterflies try to escape his insides. He definitely did not feel that what so ever. That was pure, festering hatred. Nothing more, nothing less.

It is now official. Karkat Vantas has never hated himself more than this moment.


	10. The Nightmares Are Different Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat woke up, breathing heavily and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The nightmares he always had were slightly…different. Somehow that made them even more unsettling. He felt violated, unsafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, this is the half way point of the story. We only have ten more chapters until the cataclysmic end. So this means roughly ten more days of up dating. Just sayin'. But thank you to everyone who's read this fic, you all are amazing and I probably say it too often.

Karkat woke up, breathing heavily and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The nightmares he always had were slightly…different. Somehow that made them even more unsettling. He felt violated, unsafe. 

Rolling over to his other side he thought of the dreams. It looked as though it was filmed in black and white. The only thing that had color was the blood. It bright red, brighter than anything natural. It came from Gamzee and Kanaya. But this time Strider was there, bleeding from the neck, shades having fallen off revealing eyes as red as the blood. Gamzee was bleeding from three long scratches across his face. The skin was loose, falling back and the cerise liquid filled his eye. His flesh was pulled apart and riddled with a multitude of bullet holes. 

Then there was Kanaya. Karkat could never handle the dreams once she showed up. He forced himself awake most of the time. But this time things had changed. She had a gaping hole in her midsection. Entrails were hanging from the top of the opening and her intestines had spilled out over the front of her legs. She was bleeding heavily, tears streaming down her prominent cheeks. Slowly, she lifted a hand to him and pulled him close to her. Gamzee descended upon him and the two of them started tearing at Karkat's flesh, ripping limb from limb. Strider had stumbled over and Dream Karkat closed his eyes, thinking he'd also tear him shreds. 

That didn't happen though. Dave extended a paint white hand and pulled Karkat from the onslaught. Quietly, he was lead through corridor after corridor, until they came to a dead end. Turning to Karkat, Strider said, "You should wake up now."

****

Karkat tried not to think of the dream while Strider was out. Or while he was around. Distraction, however proved to be fairly futile. He couldn't try to pretend to read, he couldn't focus on a movie, sleep was a definite no. Hell he couldn't even preoccupy himself with escape plans. 

Then he made the fucking mistake of looking at the damn wall. "If that isn't the creepiest shit in the history of creepy shit, I don't fucking know what is." He muttered to himself. "Who the fuck plasters the walls in pictures of the person you fucking kidnapped? Does this dick licker not have an ounce of decency? No, no he doesn't."

The more he stared at it, the creepier it got. But it was oddly flattering, if not… beautiful. The photos were arranged to be pleasing to the eye. And the quality of then was great. They looked professional. Karkat briefly wondered how he could miss an albino man with a professional grade camera sneaking around his house. If he wasn't so disturbed, he'd be impressed. 

****

Karkat woke up from another nightmare. It was more mild thus time at least. Rolling over, he tried to get comfortable again, when he came face to face with a sleeping Strider. Momentarily, he contemplated strangling him to death in his sleep. He soon decided against it, seeing as the stalker didn't have the key to Karkat's restraints on him and if Dave was dead and Karkat was chained here, how'd he eat? He absolutely refused to cannibalize Strider. 

Karkat scoffed at Dave's cockiness. Here this asshole was putting himself in a potentially dangerous situation, relying on the fact the Karkat PROBABLY wouldn't kill him. He wouldn't of course but he still marveled at the stupidity. Flipping off the sleeping form of the albino, Karkat rolled back over and fell back asleep. 

**** 

Dave was out and Karkat was bored. For the past few days he'd been hurling insults at the man whenever able just to pass the time. Every book had been read, every movie watched and every photo observed and critiqued. And that's why Dave had been insulted into getting more movies and books. 

In the mean time, Karkat laid on the plush bed and stared at the ceiling. It was a dull, off white and had small chips in the paint here and there. Dave had been gone a coupe hours by now and Karkat was withering into a small ball of hatred and boredom. 

Everything was monochrome. There were long hallways extending in every which direction, all of them numbered in smeared blood. Down one in the distance, he could see Gamzee charging after him, head forward like a bull. Down the other he saw Kanaya pulling herself across the ground, in able to move her legs, at an insane speed. 

Turning around, Karkat ran as fast as he could down the hallway marked "4". He followed the winding path, hoping the others wouldn't be able to keep up. He could hear Kanaya's crying and pushed forward even harder. 

He slammed into a red stained body. Gamzee was there in front of him and Kanaya was approaching fast from behind. Karkat flailed and screamed trying to get out of their grasp. They grabbed tighter, pulling skin from bones and ripping tendons. 

"There's no one motherfucking here this time, brother. No one to up and save you. No way for you to motherfucking WAKE UP…" Gamzee's voice started to change. It wasn't the low, raspy voice it usually was, but now it was something smoother and more worried. "Karkat…wake up…wake up!"

His eyes finally opened as he jolted up in bed. Strider sat beside him, worry evident in the tilt of his eyebrows. Suddenly, he pulled Karkat into a hug, surprising him. "It's ok, nothing's happened," he whispered. "No ones going to hurt you."

Waves of relief and guilt washed over Karkat as he started sobbing into the albino's shirt. "They were dead. And it was my fault." Karkat knew that to be true. The dream was still the same has it'd always been after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not quite what was planned. Oh well, Karkat doesn't deal with trauma and stress to well. This is the way the stress from being held captive manifests itself, because he's worried Dave has killed the two most important people in his life. Of course they are still alive and well, but Karkat doesn't know that for sure and blames himself for the death he might have brought upon them.


	11. Unexpected Sweetness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat had cried himself to sleep in Dave's arms after a particularly horrifying nightmare, yet he was still surprised to awake with Strider still there. He'd figured the albino would've probably left to go do whatever it was that was happening before. Yet low and behold, there he was, shades askew and bangs falling in his face while he slept, holding Karkat against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I just want to say your guys' comments are so hilarious. They always make me laugh. Also, I was thinking that for Valentine's Day I could do a bonus chapter or so for the story. So if you are intersted in that at all, please let me know.

Karkat had cried himself to sleep in Dave's arms after a particularly horrifying nightmare, yet he was still surprised to awake with Strider still there. He'd figured the albino would've probably left to go do whatever it was that was happening before. Yet low and behold, there he was, shades askew and bangs falling in his face while he slept, holding Karkat against him. 

Karkat could feel the blood rushing up to his face as he shook Strider awake. "Hey, asshat, get off me," he growled half-heartedly. Dave groaned, tightening his grip on Karkat and rubbing his face into the fluffy, chocolate brown hair. 

"…Dun wanna…" Dave mumbled tiredly. Karkat scoffed, placing his hands on the other man's chest to try to shove him off. That plan didn't work however, and Karkat had only succeeded in winding up in a terrible awkward position. 

"Strider, I am so fucking hungry, I could eat my own dick. Will you please get the fuck off of me and make me some damn food?" He tried to sound demanding and strong, but physically grimaced at how whiney it sounded. 

Dave chuckled, untangling himself from the sheets and stood up. "Sure thing Crab Baby. I'll make you a fat stack of pancakes ok?" And with that, he walked out if the room. Karkat scowled at the door. 'Crab Baby?' He questioned. 'What kind of fucking nickname is that?'

****

It'd been a few days and Karkat's demeanor and behavior towards Dave was changing. He doesn't understand why he's acting do much different, why he trusts this guy so much more now. It was one night, one nightmare, he comforted him after. And now Karkat was acting like he knew Strider all his life. 

When he was around Dave he tried to distance himself, both physically and emotionally, but it never worked. If they were sitting on the bed watching a movie he found himself moving closer to the prick. He found he could actually just relax around him and be himself. He didn't have to put on a tough act or walk on egg shells around the albino. 

It was new. It was comforting. 

****

Dave had never been happier in his life than the past few days. The tension between him and Karkat was clearing. You could no longer cut it and spread it on toast, and damn was that a feat. 

Karkat seemed comfortable around him, and as cliche as it sounded, it absolutely warmed his heart. He felt like he was constantly high. There were times when Vantas would rest a hand on his shoulder and Dave could swear there was electricity running up and down his spine, illuminating pale skin from the inside. 

The atmosphere was relaxed, friendly even. They could talk, watch shitty rom-coms, or even just chill together. There weren't any death glares anymore or screaming matches with only one participant. Things were civilized.


	12. The Stories of Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two of them sat on the bed, some shitty Adam Sandler movie playing on the tv. There was a bowl of popcorn between the boys and each had a bottle of cheap beer in hand. Karkat intently focused his gaze on the tv, only breaking his gaze to lift the bottle to his lips or shove a handful of popcorn in his mouth. He could feel Dave next to him, arms brushing against each other, and he leaned in, nudging Strider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so there'll be two updates tomorrow. One will be an actual part of this story and the other will be the bonus chapter which will be separate. So yay!

The two of them sat on the bed, some shitty Adam Sandler movie playing on the tv. There was a bowl of popcorn between the boys and each had a bottle of cheap beer in hand. Karkat intently focused his gaze on the tv, only breaking his gaze to lift the bottle to his lips or shove a handful of popcorn in his mouth. He could feel Dave next to him, arms brushing against each other, and he leaned in, nudging Strider. 

"Hey, Strider, you know I barely know anything about you." He whispered, still staring at the tv. He felt Dave shift beside him, probably to look at him, before he heard a dismissive snort. 

"Yeah, that's probably a good thing. And to be honest I don't know much 'bout you either, Crabby." Dave punctuated the end of the sentence with a swig of beer. Karkat turned him fully, furrowing his brow and crossing his arms. 

"Well, I'm sure you have a better fucking idea of who I am, you dick-shitter. So how about you go first and fucking tell me about yourself. Or swear to any deity that'd listen I'll dismember you." 

Dave chuckled at Karkat's outburst and looked at the mocha skinned boy, lowering his sunglasses to see him better in the dim light. Throwing back the rest of his beer, Dave sighed in contentment and looked at the bottle. "Ok, Vantas. What do you want to know?" He looked back at the shorter man and could see the widening of gray eyes. 

"Ok, so, where are you from?"Dave smirked, unable to keep from showing some form of emotion when Karkat was being so cute. 

"Here in town. Born and raised. What else?"

"What is your favorite color?"

Lifting his hands to gesture around the room, he replied, "red. I like red."

"Ok, um. What was it like growing up around here?" The second Karkat finished the sentence, Dave had tenses up. He clenched his fists tightly, slightly scarred knuckles turning white to try to keep his face blank. 

"Complete shit. Sucked worse than a stripper who receives extra tips for blow jobs."

"What do you mean by that?" Karkat's voice was laced with concern. Dave shrugged, regretting how harsh his reply came. He looked down at his hands, trying to avoid any form of eye contact. It didn't matter anyway. 

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and Dave looked up to see Karkat staring at him, brows furrowed but without the usual scowl that followed it. "You know you can tell me, right?"

Dave shook his head, sighing. "It doesn't matter. It's nothing." The grip on his shoulder tightened and soon Karkat was straining against the bindings to grab Dave's furthest shoulder, forcing him to look at. "Obviously it fucking is something. Now just fucking tell me what's wrong." 

Giving in, Dave sighed, explaining his choldhood with his drugged up, abusive guardian. By the time he was finished with explanation, the end credits of the movie were rolling and Karkat was trembling. He looked like he was about to explode and the fact that Bro was already dead did nothing but piss him off more.

"Well, how 'bout you, Crabkat?" Dave asked, hoping to distract him and pull attention away from himself. 

"What about me?" Karkat asked defensively. His arms were crossed and the scowl seemed to have returned to its rightful place. 

"Well, I told ya' 'bout my life, so how 'bout yours?"

Karkat sighed, uncrossing his arms and grabbing a beer, he nodded. "Fine." He said taking a drink. "My family is extremely religious. My father is a pastor and my brother is studying to follow in his footsteps. I haven't talked to either of them in three years, seeing as they disowned me."

Dave sucked in an awkward breath, slowly letting it out. "Why'd they do that?" He asked quietly and slowly. 

Karkat shrugged and took another sip. "I'm gay, they're religious. That's pretty much it." He replied easily. His voice was devoid of all emotion. Almost like he was hurt and angry about it once, but just got exhausted with it. Carefully, Strider scooted over and pulled him into a hug. 

"Well fuck 'em then." He whispered. "They don't deserve to call ya' family."

Karkat chuckled. "Yeah, what-fucking-ever I guess." He was looking up at Dave. Pulling away, he finished his beer. 

The two continued talking for hours after, trading random stories. Karkat never had felt quite like this before. His nerves felt like fire and his heart pounded faster than normal. He found himself watching Dave's mouth intently as he spoke. His stomach was flipping it's shit in a fucking pirouette off the handle. 

Then, time seemed to slow. Karkat was leaning forward, grabbing Dave's face in both hands and crashing his lips onto those still talking lips. He pulled himself closer to the albino, practically crawling into his lap, not even caring about the shackle on his wrist. 

Quickly, he dipped his tongue into the other's mouth, tasting the alcohol and apple juice on his lips. Dave didn't hesitate to respond, pulling Karkat closer and wrapping his long arms around his waist. He battled against Karkat for dominance, but didn't win. 

As soon as it started, the kiss had ended. Karkat was curled up against Dave's chest. The two lay there in the bed, Dave running his fingers through the other's hair whilst Karkat makes sounds of approval. And with the level of comfort combined with the beer, the two drift off to sleep.


	13. Feelings And Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat really couldn't deny it, he realized as he watched Strider walk into the room. He could physically feel his face heating up and it definitely was not something he liked. Growling, he scowled at the book in his hand, pretending to focus on the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! The bonus chapter is already up, if you haven't read it and you want to you can check the other work on my profile. But as promised, here is the update for the original story!

Karkat really couldn't deny it, he realized as he watched Strider walk into the room. He could physically feel his face heating up and it definitely was not something he liked. Growling, he scowled at the book in his hand, pretending to focus on the story. 

His heart was beating extremely fast and his stomach felt like the acid was eating it's way through his flesh. He couldn't like this guy, could he? No, of course not. The albino had kidnapped him and his life wasn't some shirty romance story. He wasn't going to be some fucking moron and fall for someone who could easily hurt him. 

But Dave had never hurt him before, he'd never even suggested it. Karkat's grip on the book tightened, turning his knuckles as white as the other's skin. And even as he thought of it, Karkat knew he felt the exact opposite. He was actually starting to trust the guy and that scared him more than the possibility of being hurt by him. If he trusted Strider, he'd be hurt only by himself. 

Though he had to admit, it was hard not to like the guy, at least a little. He was an ass, that much was true, but he was an ass that could make Karkat laugh. Not to mention that he had opened up to Karkat about something so painful. He was still pissed off about this "Bro" guy. 

He watched as the tall, albino sat down in the desk chair and pulled out his laptop. His shaded and been pulled off to accommodate for the bulky headphones. Karkat stared at the brilliant, red eyes and smiled softly. He always like seeing Dave's eyes, he felt it made him more…human…in a way. Less emotionless, more expressive even though they were the only thing the betrayed any hint of feeling. He always liked seeing them, and he couldn't stand the stupid shades. 

Smiling to himself, he actually returned to his book. He had bent some of the pages and, sighing to himself, he worked on straightening them back out. 

****

Karkat determined it must have been about three weeks since he'd been brought here. He figured that since Dave would leave him be to shower every two days. And he'd showered roughly seven times as far as he had remembered. If that was the case, this would be the eight or ninth. 

Karkat sat under the stream of water and looked around. There was no way of escaping, but there might have been a group of police out looking for him. If they are, how long had they been looking? And when would they give up? It scared him too think of them not finding him and deciding it just be a case that never got solved. At the same time the fear weighed on his brain, his heart felt lighter than every. 

Pinching himself lightly, cursed. "Damn it Karkat. You need to focus, there's no way you'll be free if you fuck off and develop feelings for Strider. Even if it is Stockholm or something idiotic like that," he sighed, whispering. After all, he was a captive. He could be sure of what he really felt and what was a mental coping method. 

****

Karkat wanted to fucking rip his hair from his scalp. Dave was sleeping next to him peacefully and Karkat's mind actually had the fucking gall to say he looked "cute". He felt sick, and he didn't vomiting would absolve him of the sensation. He wished he could just scream his frustration without waking the other. 

Why? Why would his mind betray him like that? He thought he had already fucking established that he was not going to fall for any damn psychological shit. There's no way he'd let it happen. Rolling over to his side he pressed his face against the wall. 

Silently, he thought over the facts of his abduction, trying to bring back that same anger he felt before. It didn't work however. He couldn't bring himself to resent Strider. 

****

He couldn't keep himself from staring at Strider. He was noticing the most ridiculous things about him. Examples being the way his hair lay, the lighter red color in his eyes near the pupil, the twitch of his eyebrows, the pink scars littering his body, etc. It was sickening. 

He tried many times to distract himself, trying to watch some random movies on Netflix or read a book. It was useless though. It wouldn't work. He couldn't even try to take a nap. 

All he could do was stare at Dave. And that's what he did. It's not like the albino was paying attention anyway. 

****

Vantas couldn't keep the smile off his face. It was small, but still there. It pissed him off a little, but he just couldn't help it. 

Dave had his arm wrapped around Karkat's shoulder as the two of them watched a movie in the bedroom. Karkat had crossed his arms, trying to pretend that he didn't approve but that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact he'd never been happier than at the moment. 

His heart was in his throat and it was, apparently, choking off all rational thinking that could help Karkat. He sighed, still smiling to his annoyance, and decided he'd let it play it's course. 

****

Karkat Vantas had never been more confused in his life than the last few months. Was he falling for Strider? If so was it of his own accord? Hopefully, the answer would be no to the first one, but he wasn't sure. And if he was indeed falling for Dave, he couldn't tell if he wanted it to be of his accord or because of Stockholm Syndrome. 

Maybe, he was just convincing himself he felt that way because if the amount if attention Dave was paying him. But he found it unlikely. He'd never cared before he was abducted if somebody was giving him attention. Hell, it usually made him more likely to tell them to fuck off. 

So only the two least ideal options were left. Karkat felt empty at the prospect of them.


	14. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so maybe getting drunk with the guy he is having conflicting feelings about wasn't the smartest idea. Though Karkat did admit, he wasn't the poster child for flawless plans. Plus, it wasn't like he told Dave to get a new pile of movies and a case of shitty beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry there was no update yesterday. I was really sick and slept for close to twenty hours. But I feel better now and here's the update. Thank you guys for being patient and understanding.

Ok, so maybe getting drunk with the guy he is having conflicting feelings about wasn't the smartest idea. Though Karkat did admit, he wasn't the poster child for flawless plans. Plus, it wasn't like he told Dave to get a new pile of movies and a case of shitty beer. 

He couldn't help but throw glances at the albino practically every five seconds. The liquor certainly wasn't helping matters. He would find himself fixating on the most random of his features, hell he had fucking stared at the guy's left eyebrow for ten god damn minutes. There's no way, in his mind, that this could be Stockholm. If it was he'd only be infatuated with Strider, he wouldn't actually trust him. Sighing at the thought, he ran his hand over his face and went back to "watching" the movie. 

Three beers in and what the fuck was he thinking? He wasn't even trying to hide the fact he couldn't focus on the screen. He had to keep himself from staring at Dave for the full hour though. What the fuck could he do? 

"Do you think there's anyone looking for me?" The dark skinned man whispered. Dave stiffened at the words, turning to look at Karkat who was decidedly staring at his hands. "I don't know if I want them to or not." 

Dave relaxed again, but didn't look away from Karkat. Slowly, he ran a hand through the mess of brown hair on his head. Karkat sighed in appreciation and leaned into the hand, his tan skin flush with intoxication. 

"I don't know," he said quietly, scooting closer to Strider. "I'm just not sure how I fucking feel. I'm confused." The sweater clad man shrugged and laid his head on the albino's shoulder. Fixing his eyes on some point in front of him, he took another gulp of cheap alcohol before becoming lost in thought. 

They sat like that for several minutes. The tension had grown thick, though Vantas seemed unaware of it. Dave was worried, was Karkat going to try to escape? Was he going to be left alone, hell was he going to be arrested? Dave trembled at the thought, no he couldn't let it happen. He'd have to keep Karkat here, but he wouldn't use any unnecessary force. 

"What are you confused about, Snoop Crabb?"

Karkat seemed to roused from his thoughts. Quickly, he downed the rest of his beer before turning to look at Dave straight on. "I'm confused, because I think I might be in love with you." He answered seriously. "I'm not sure thought. I know I definitely feel something."

Dave's mouth fell open and his eyes widened as he stared at the gray eyed man. He couldn't seem to process the words right, there's no way Karkat said that. He wasn't complaining, no not at all it just seemed unlikely as something the foul-mouthed ball of anger would say. A mocha hand reached up landed on his cheek softly. 

Karkat was brushing away tears that Dave didn't even know were leaking out from behind his shades. Strider was in a complete sense of shock.

"Hey, there's no fucking reason to be crying you idiot. You should be happy." Karkat retracted his arm before crossing it over his chest with its twin. That usual scowl was back on his face, though the buzz from the liquor had softened it a bit. 

"I am happy, Crabby 2 Dope. Trust me I am happy."


	15. Love Couldn't Be Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two weeks since Karkat had gotten drunk and decided to spill his guts to Strider. Things haven't been the same since, that's not a bad thing though. Actually Dave has given him more freedom than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so there's only five more chapters after this one, so only five more updates. I'm starting another fic with these fucking dorks once photographs is done. This is the last peaceful chapter before things start working towards their end, so enjoy!

It's been two weeks since Karkat had gotten drunk and decided to spill his guts to Strider. Things haven't been the same since, that's not a bad thing though. Actually Dave has given him more freedom than ever.

That's not all though. Karkat had completely abandoned all thoughts of escape, after all who'd want to run away from the person they love? He's amazed at the small house, seeing as he's only been in two rooms and a hallway. The kitchen is fairly large and updated rather nicely. And the fridge was stocked to the point of nearly over flowing, though there was a sword or two in there placed along side the food. 

Karkat's stomach growled and he figured since Dave wasn't up he could make breakfast. Grabbing the eggs out of the fridge along with some various meats and vegetables, he got down to business. He whisking eggs and chopping onions and peppers so fast it'd put Gordon Ramsay to shame. It wasn't long before the dark skinned man had made the most amazing omelettes he'd ever made, meaning unlike the last six times in his life he hadn't burnt them or gotten eggshells in there. Amazing. 

Long, pale arms wrapped around his waist and Karkat bristled in surprise. He hadn't even heard Dave walk up, how the fuck? Slowly turning around, he mushed a part of omelette against the others face, "Eat it." was his simple demand. Dave complied, untangling himself from the grumpy man and popped a bit of the food in his mouth. Instantly his face screwed up in disgust, but he fought through the rebellion of his taste buds and ate it. 

"Crabby, what'd you put in that?"

"What you normally put in an omelette, dumb ass. Some peppers, onion, ham, and salt."

Dave grimaced, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, "Yeah, I think you used too much salt…"

****

Dave had soon learned to never let Karkat cook. Whenever the shorter man tried, he'd quickly distract him in various ways. Ok, he usually just kissed him. It was the easiest way to get him stop what he was doing. And it's not like Dave disliked it at all. 

His favorite thing was just giving him a quick, light kiss. Those always extracted the most reaction from Karkat. His beautiful mocha skin would alit with a pink blush and his eyes would get all hazy. Kisses seemed to have an affect on him not even alcohol had. Though, the small kisses would usually escalate into sloppy makeouts. 

Which was what had happened now. Dave had a blushing Karkat pinned to the couch under him as he kissed him. Karkat whimpered, wrapping his arms around Dave's neck to bring him closer as the to battled for the right to explore respective oral cavities. Dave had won, as he often did and took no time in claiming his prize. 

****

Karkat couldn't have possibly been happier. The two we're laying out in the back yard, looking at the night sky. It felt like it'd been ages since Karkat seen the outside, not that he'd ever liked it much before but the change of scenery was nice. 

The pair of men laid out on gray blanket that was thrown over the weed covered yard. The sky was clear and the stars shone like that had never shone before. Dave had his phone laying out beside them, playing some soft music he had mixed a little earlier that day. Everything was perfect. 

Karkat reached out, grabbing Dave's hand squeezed it. He didn't care if he'd gone completely fucking nuts anymore. There was no doubt in his mind. 

He was absolutely in love with Dave Fucking Strider.


	16. Shatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a knock on the front door. The situation was unusual, no one ever came out this far to sell stuff. The two boys hesitated, not knowing if they should open it or not. The knocking came again, this time harder and more persistent. Dave walked over to the door while Karkat went to the living room window to see if he'd be able to tell who it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our precious bbys are gonna have a bad time in this chapter. Sorry.

There was a knock on the front door. The situation was unusual, no one ever came out this far to sell stuff. The two boys hesitated, not knowing if they should open it or not. The knocking came again, this time harder and more persistent. Dave walked over to the door while Karkat went to the living room window to see if he'd be able to tell who it was. 

The door opened, revealing a tall man in a blue police uniform. He was about 6'5" with a long hair that was tied back and dark skin. "I'm Officer Zahhak. I'm here for a missing person case, one Karkat Vantas. I'm afraid we have incriminating evidence against you, Mr. Strider. We will be taking you in to custody." 

And just like that there were footsteps through the house as more police entered and hand cuffs were slapped on to Dave. Two officers had to help the shocked Karkat out of his spot near the window. They practically had to carry him out of the house as the rest of the police rummaged through the house, taking various objects as evidence. 

****

Karkat sat in the interrogation room, terrified. His blood was like ice in his veins and he couldn't bring himself to speak. Officer Zahhak was asking him to explain what had happened in detail, but the internal conflict this presented to Karkat was almost too much. On one hand, he thought it would be incredibly disrespectful and stupid to lie to the officer. On the other, he didn't want Dave to get in trouble, what if he'd never see him again?

So silence was the best option, though he felt sick. Zahhak was patient and kind even. He seemed understanding of the silence and he sat there calmly and waited. After and hour, he asked again, gently not wanting to scare the smaller man. 

It didn't seem silence would get him out of there anytime soon, so he decided to just get it over with. He told the officer of how he had come home one night to be chloroformed and then woke up in that house. He explained how he'd been restrained and how for a while he was a prisoner. He didn't mention how he'd fallen in love with Strider or come to trust him with his life. 

****

Kanaya had cried for the first time in years when she saw Karkat again. With a sob, the tall girl had dashed over to him and enveloped him in her arms, surrounding the boy with the comforting scent of her expensive perfume. She shook and clung to him as if she was afraid he'd disappear into thin air if she let go. 

If Kanaya was crying, he wasn't even sure what the mess Gamzee had going on would be classified as. He had gotten thinner, his hair was even more out of control and his eyes were red and puffy. There were tears and snot and drool streaming down his face as he wailed, clinging on to Karkat begging him not to go again. 

The three of them had gone back to Karkat and Gamzee's house. It looked the exact same as the last time he was here, except there was no food, but it honestly didn't seem like Gamzee had eaten at all during the time he was missing, so that wasn't a surprise. The two had relentlessly questioned Karkat and he was forced to tell them everything that had happened. 

Karkat had never seen his friend look more terrifying than that moment. Kanaya had tears running down her high cheekbones while her eyes narrowed to a glare. Her jaw was clench tight and her hands were trembling. Gamzee had stopped crying on the other hand. His eyes had widened, eyebrows furrowing. The tall, gangly man let out a shreak that was akin to something of an enraged animal and punched the wall behind him. The drywall cracked before completely giving way all the way through the other side if the wall. Plaster fell to the ground with a 'thunk' and dust floated through the air. Blood fell from the injured hand, dripping onto Gamzee's purple shoes. 

Between the two of them, they swore Dave Strider would never be let free. 

****

It wasn't long before the court date. Karkat had been asked several times if he would testify against Dave, but he refused. He couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't condemn the man he loved more than he already had. He tried to avoid all talk of the trial as much as possible. 

Unfortunately, that was no easy feat. The case and trial were the only things on the news and everywhere he went he could see people pointing at him or hear their not-so-subtle whispers. 

****

Guilty. The news spread faster than wild fire. Dave was found guilty by a jury if his peers and was sentenced to twenty years of imprisonment with the chance of parole. Twenty years, it would be twenty years at most before Karkat could see Dave again. The thought twisted a knife in his gut. 

He'd have to visit during prison hours. That is if he could ever get away from the mothering if Kanaya and the newfound over protectiveness of Gamzee. The two flipped their shit if they saw someone who was even wearing the same sunglasses as Dave. 

Karkat laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling. This was the worst fucking thing he could think of. Not only was Dave officially arrested, but Karkat was practically a prisoner again. 

He wasn't sure how, but he'd make certain he found a way to see Dave. Or at least talk to him again. He missed that asshole.


	17. Of Letters and Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave had been in prison for a week. It seemed longer than that, considering that he isolated himself. Everyone here seemed to know him somehow, whether they were and old acquaintance of Bro's or they had just watched the extensive amount of news coverage on his case (which honestly seemed a little overkill to most). He hardly left the cell except when necessary, which led to him having a lot of free time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. I apologize for not updating sooner. My internet was being a piece of shit and I just got it fixed. I'm sorry for inconveniencing you, seeing as the story is so close to the end and I was unable to just get it done. I hope the ending makes up for the wait, if not I will personally allow you to come find me and throw rocks at my head or something.

Dave had been in prison for a week. It seemed longer than that, considering that he isolated himself. Everyone here seemed to know him somehow, whether they were and old acquaintance of Bro's or they had just watched the extensive amount of news coverage on his case (which honestly seemed a little overkill to most). He hardly left the cell except when necessary, which led to him having a lot of free time. 

Karat helped with that. The little man had been sending him letters and books nearly everyday. He understood that Dave was on a limited amount of phone and letter money, but he was fine with it. He wrote these long ramble-y letters that had so many colorful swears that the guards who looked over the letters would either burst out laughing or go completely pale (example: HEY YOU FUCKSHITTING DICKSQUATING PUSSYMUNCHER. GUESS WHAT HAPPENED TO DAY YOU INSUFFERABLE LEPRECHAUN-TAINT. FUCKING NOTHING.). Hell, they had already given him a nickname, Crab Boy. He doodled crabs on everything; the books and magazines he sent, the letters, the envelope of the letter. There was no surface that was not graffitied with the shitty image of a crab. 

The constant letters from him help ease the loneliness, but it doesn't receive it fully. Dave wishes he could see Karkat's face, even if it where from behind the glass of the visitation room. He can't though. From the way the letters describe it Kanaya, the tall barista that Dave had only interacted with a handful of times, and Gamzee, the stoner roommate who didn't notice when not-so-small amounts of weed were stolen from his stash, where watching Karat like two momma hawks. He said that they went anywhere he went and Kanaya was always armed (Dave did't think he wanted to know with what though...). Dave decided he'd deal with what he got though, after all letters were better than nothing.

The communication was a breath of fresh air. He had feared that after all was said and done that they'd be, well, done. It didn't seem that this was the case, luckily. Dave wasn't sure how'd he'd cope without the angry beauty. Vantas was all he thought about, all he ever could and if he'd have just ended it, Dave was sure he would've died right there. Why would he even want to live, without his little ball of fluff nothing would be worth it. Despite how much Dave tried to be the Knight, he wasn't. His armor was cracked and his chainmail was more of a burden than a help. Even though he couldn't lift his sword for the life of him, Karat was there. He was the true knight, just with out the honorifics or shiny, yet cumbersome armor. He was most deserving of the title. Chuckling to himself, Dave thought, "Guess I'm the anime waifu now."

****

Karkat had to do this quick. He didn't want to even image the hellfire that be rained down on him if she caught him. It was hard to find time to sneak out letters to Dave, but it was definitely worth it. He didn't like the idea of being apart from him, hell he could barely bring himself to think of it. Life was so different now, though he wasn't exactly surprised, no one sane would be able to go straight back to life as normal after his situation. And his newfound attachment to Strider made no easier. He hated that he couldn't go and see him in person or even call him. God, it would be a fucking relief to hear his voice, but with Kanaya and Gamzee breathing down the back of his neck there was no way he could. Letters would be the best he could do for now. Maybe after all this died down, he could go and visit Dave. 

Karkat had one other problem in the form of a person. And his name was Sollux Captor. He'd found that after the ordeal had occurred, Sollux would not let him out of sight nor out of mind. Constantly, little texts from him would come up from him, at the ass crack of dawn or in the dead of night the time didn't matter. And he would not give up until Karat responded. A stream of "Hey, KK. You up?"s that flowed into the sleeping ears of Karkat and would not stop. It was the most annoying shit in the world and Karkat was amazed at how fucking dense Sollux was that he didn't even realize how obnoxious he was being. It was past the point of even being remotely flattering. Hell, even Karkat's older brother was better, back before they cut off all communication of course.

Come to think of it, even during this giant shit circus, he never heard word from his father or Kankri. Not that he cared even in the slightest, he was past the point of giving a shit what they thought or cared about. It was odd however, seeing as Karkat's father was constantly watching the news and the Strider Case had gotten nationwide coverage. It wasn't as if reporters didn't mention his name either and a name like Karkat Vantas wasn't exactly common. Maybe it was better that Karkat hadn't heard from the though, he couldn't image he'd be too happy. It would be in their characters thought, to care when it humored them. 

That was one of the things he loved about Dave. Dave didn't want him for his own use. He wanted Karkat because he wanted who Karat was, he didn't expect him to act a certain way or believe certain things. It was about HIM and who HE was, not what he did or said. Sure, Dave's methods weren't perfect, but his intentions were. He just wanted a chance and Karkat was ashamed that he hadn't given him the chance earlier, that it took all of this to show him how good of a guy Dave was. Yes, Dave was damaged and broken, but Karkat wasn't really in much better condition. He was just as jaded about things, he was just as turned off from most of humanity. Who was he to judge Dave when he couldn't possibly fathom the way his mind worked. Damaged, a little banged up, but not completely ruined. He was glad to call Dave his, and vice versa.

****

Crabs and all caps. That's what Dave's days were comprised of now. He wouldn't want it any other way. The security guard walked to Dave's cell and through the envelope in the cramped space, "Crab Boy wrote to you again. There's a couple pictures in there too. Let me know if you want some tape or something." he said walking away. The letter was basically a run down of A Day In The Life Of Karkat Vantas, which was a normal topic of writing.

In the months of imprisonment these little scrapes of paper were the only things to keep him sane. He had thirty pictures from Karkat taped up on his wall, the photographs ranging from views and scenery to selfies and pictures with his friends. All of them seemed to scream "Karkat" in some form or another. Every picture had a date scribbled in pen along with a little crab. 

He saved every letter and re-read them every chance he got. And with the self-isolation and constant nightmares, he had a lot of time to read. He wrote back to Karkat every week, giving him a low down of how things were going. He drew some shitty little comics in the letters than were riddled with strange phrases and characters. Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. What a fucking thing to send his boyfriend in the mail from prison. The subtle ironic nuances would not be lost on any Strider, on others (normal people), however, they most likely would. 

It wasn't so bad. At least he never felt truly lonely. 

****

Four months. Four months he'd been able to sneak past the watchful eyes of Kanaya and Gamzee. And now, one fucking slip up and it all comes tumbling down. Faster than a fucking tower of Jenga blocks. Dave would probably make some fucking reference to the dumbass comics he's been sending him lately along with his letters. 

Now the jig is up. Kanaya and Gamzee know he's been talking to Dave despite their combined efforts to keep him from the albino. Do they give however? No, they fucking don't. Instead they decide it'd be best to drag Karkat off to some stupid therapist so he fucking talk about what happened or some shit. 

It's stupid. He hates it. The doctor acts like he knows Karkat's entire life story, like he knows what's best for him. The guy barely listens to a fucking word Karkat says, it's all about what he fucking "knows". He goes to several sessions, dragged there quite literally by Kanaya seeing as he refuses to go of his own free will. 

There is one thing the doctor says that resonates with him though, it won't seem to leave his head no matter what he tries. "The psyche has built in coping methods to traumatic situation. Stockholm is a fairly common coping method."

****

The letters haven't been coming for a few weeks. Dave tries to shrug it off, pretend it's not a big deal, that it doesn't mean anything. But he's scared, scared that it does mean something, something big. 

He sends more letters, trying to see if he can get a response. Nothing. Weeks of silence from Karkat. He wonders if maybe the little brunette was caught by Kanaya. It honestly wouldn't surprise him, it could only keep going on in secret for so long. It would also explain why no letters gave been coming, she'd probably ground him or something. But the silence is terrible. 

****   
Letter after letter from Dave. Seeing them tears Karkat apart. Kanaya won't let him read them, yet she cruelly keeps them out on the counter, taunting him with them. The sight of Striders choppy, angular handwriting makes him want to scream out his grief. 

Karkat's been going to more and more therapy sessions. Two every week to be exact. He hates them still, but he can't help but feel the doctor isn't completely wrong. It hurts him, to think that his love for Dave is all an illusion, but he wouldn't rule it out entirely. The thought scares him, more than he'd care to admit. 

****

Months have passes without a word from Karkat. Dave's lonelier than he's ever been in his entire life. He still isolates himself, too many people know Bro. Too many people hate Bro and don't care which Strider it is as long as they get their hands on them. 

He wishes he could just see Karkat again. Hear his voice. Those don't seem to be the cards he was dealt however. As it seems to be, life never goes the way you want it to.


	18. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave stared at the walls of the cell surrounding him. His mouth was dry and his throat was heavy with the weight of having not uttered a word for weeks. He shook like there was a constant breeze blowing through the facility. There was nothing that could be crueler than a fate such as this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, only two more chapters left. We are so close to the end. I think you guys are really going to hate me. I'm the worst, but the ending coming up is the only way i could even think of the story coming to a close. I've had it planned like this for a while now. I hope you don't hate me...

Dave stared at the walls of the cell surrounding him. His mouth was dry and his throat was heavy with the weight of having not uttered a word for weeks. He shook like there was a constant breeze blowing through the facility. There was nothing that could be crueler than a fate such as this.

He'd never really thought that it'd last this long. The overwhelming silence that is. Of course it wasn't literally silent, the world around him was filled with noise, indistinguishable, maddening noise. It was a buzz, a constant stream of syllables that meant nothing. Brought on by the absence of written words. How strange to think, not seeing someone's handwriting for over a year could really have that much of an effect on him. He felt like everything was ending, in a deafening cacophony of blank paper. He couldn't bring himself to lift a pen, he'd tried, for months. No answer. Never any response.

Life had become gray, monochrome. He could feel himself slipping away at times. He would stare into space, thinking. Slowly, his emotionless armor slipped back into place. It comforted him, guarded him from the prying eyes of the world. He refused to show any hint of feeling, a poker face in perfect condition. His mind however, was more shattered than ever. Whispers of the mistakes he'd made and things he'd done wrong slitting through his head. He hated the sight of himself whenever he was forced to see it. He couldn't stand it. He knew everything he'd done was his fault, he'd been the one to fuck everything up. 

Damn, all he wanted was one letter from Karkat. 

****

There was a pile of unopened letters sitting in the corner of the room. No matter how hard he tried, Karkat simply couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. So there they sat, taunting him, drawing him closer. He couldn't look at them though, it would be counter active. 

He'd done well for an entire year. He couldn't break that streak. Though it was nights like these, when they sky was clear and the house was empty, that the urge was strongest. It was like an itch that he didn't want to scratch for fear of infection. He was infected already though, his heart argued, why would reading them make it any worse? His mind would spit back with venom, we don't love him by choice, it'd obviously make it much worse. 

Sighing, the dark skinned beauty flung himself to the gray sheets. Therapy seemed to be helping, but he still couldn't get Strider out of his head. The red eyed man was like a vice constantly constructing his mind. Slowly, Karkat would begin to drift away, not thinking of the albino. Then suddenly he'd get yanked back, pulled head first into memories of him. Those moments always tore him apart with grief and recently self hatred as well. Why couldn't he just forget him? Why could he just fucking control how he felt? Why did everything have to be so damn hard?

More than ever, he wanted to read those words. He just couldn't let himself though. 

****

Nearly a year and a half. To think that it'd been that long without word from him. Yet he still sent letters. It was as if he had died and this was his punishment in the afterlife. Though he did write less and less often. 

He got some letters from strangers, people who found him online or something. It wasn't the same though. To be polite he responded and in turn they would send him books or magazines. It was appreciated. Something to keep him busy wasn't unwelcomed. Better than staring at a wall plastered with drawings of crabs. 

He tried not to think of Karkat and for the most part succeeded in keeping himself occupied with other things. It was at night that brought the problems though. No matter what he tried, he constantly had dreams of him. Dreams of Karkat happy without him in his life, of Karkat with Sollux. It was terrible. He'd wake up shaking, tears pooling in his eyes. His hands would fumble under his mattress until grasping onto the carton of cigarettes hidden there. This new found habit was his one saving grace. The feeling of the carcinogens entering his body and charring his lungs brought a peace of mind. The destruction of his health was something he was in control of and damn did it feel nice. 

All he wanted was for the dreams to stop. 

****

It seemed he was moving on. He was able to go days with thinking if anything related to the pale man and he was happier. His friends noticed the difference that had taken place over the past month or so and couldn't be described as anything other than ecstatic. 

The pile of letters had been disposed of. The new ones that came in the mail were immediately trashed without even a second glance. Life had finally gained some semblance of normalcy back. It was nice. 

Karkat was finally free to stop the therapy sessions and he did do happily. The doctor was pleased to see the improvement in Karkat and let him go happily. Hell, the man had even thrown him a party in celebration. With now being therapy free, Karkat had more free time. He'd applied for a job at a cute bookstore downtown near the café Kanaya worked at. The bookstore was nice, really cozy, quiet. Plus everyone who shooed there was extremely polite. Everything was working out finally. 

The only thing he wanted was for the letters to stop. 

****

Years had passed and Dave had still stayed the same. But word around the block was that he'd be getting out soon. Of course on good behavior and the fact that his sentence was only for seven years. What difference does it make if he gets out three years ahead of schedule. 

He hasn't written to Karkat in four months and figures with this news, he may as well. It's not like he'll get a response anyway. Hell, Karkat probably won't even read it, but that's ok. Not everything goes perfectly. 

He wants to be free again and right now that's all he can think of.


	19. Gray Eyes, Red Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a knock at the door. Karkat shuffled over from the living room couch, opening the door and allowing the bright sun to float into the gloomy house. Aviator shades and white hair stood in front of him. The mocha hand gripping the door knob shook, rattling the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning!! Listen up! In this chapter there is a death. If that is something that you don't feel comfortable reading I would suggest NOt reading the story from here on out. There is also a LOT of emotional turmoil and confusion. Aside from that we only have one chapter left so the end is nigh! I hope you all enjoy it!

There was a knock at the door. Karkat shuffled over from the living room couch, opening the door and allowing the bright sun to float into the gloomy house. Aviator shades and white hair stood in front of him. The mocha hand gripping the door knob shook, rattling the door.

There he stood, leaning up against the railing of the stairs up to the house. His hair was shorter than Karkat remembered, and somehow he seemed even paler. He was slouching, face void of any emotion, hands shoved in pockets. "Sup?" he greeted nonchalantly. He was exactly the same, yet he was completely different. Anger boiled up under Karkat's skin, his face reddening with rage. His entire body shook and tears pricked his eyes.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN 'SUP'?" Karkat seethed, steeping forward on quaking legs. "WHY THE EVER LOVING FUCK ARE YOU HERE? WHAT DAMN RIGHT DO YOU FUCKING THINK YOU HAVE?"

Dave looked at the shorter man. Pushing up his shades, he leaned down eye-to-eye with Karkat. Never befor had Karkat hated the bright red of his eyes. Dave walked forward, using his size to push Karkat back towards the house. 

"What right do I have? I guess I don't fucking have any do I?" The words were scathingly calm. "Guess you never got the letter. Or did you not read it? Anyway, I got an early release."

Karkat stepped back into the house, knees threatening to give out. His heart was racing faster than it ever had before. He could feel himself fall to the ground before he could actually process that it had happened. why? why? Why? WHY? WHY did Dave think he could do this? Karkat had finally gotten better. It took years to forget the way that the taller man had made him think, made him feel. Now he comes back action as though Karkat is in the wrong. There's no way. No way in hell.

****

Worry flooded his mind even though he kept it well hidden. It'd been five years since they had last seen each other and Dave was concerned about how he would react. After all, communication had come to a screeching halt, so he couldn't exactly judge from that. Sad, that this was the first place he came after being let free. The man how had comforted him then promptly abandoned him was the first and only person he really cared to see.

Dave had to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans to keep from fidgeting with them. Hopefully Karkat still lived in the same place, otherwise it'd be really fucking awkward. 'Yes, hello sir. I was wondering if you could possibly give me the address of the person who lived here before you. You see i used to stalk him and actually was imprisoned for kidnapping him, but yeah, an address would be nice.' That'd go real well. He could hear footsteps approaching the door and quickly leaned back against the railing, hoping to look more like this was a casual visit if some stranger was living there.

The door opened, shedding light on the interior of the house. There he stood, scowl laid perfectly on his face, gray eyes seemingly piercing the very air in front of him. Then just like that, those lovely eyes widened in shock, the scowl fell from his beautiful face, instead being replaced by a look of shock. Dave's heart dropped, though he honestly wasn't surprised. It's not like the one who had originally dropped all contact with him would be expected to be happy to see him. Then came the shrieking. Dave gave an unnoticeable flinch at the harshness of the words. Karkat was right of course. Dave had no right to be there. And he would have left without another word to him if he hadn't seen it. It being the small letter, addressed to Karkat in his handwriting that lay closed on the floor. Something flared up in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was anger, but not just any anger. He felt betrayed. He'd wasted so much of his time pining after him and trying to get him back. Yet he was tossed to the side and not even given a second glance. It hurt him and he knew it wasn't entirely his fault. There was no way all the weight was going to land on his shoulders.

****

The anger that clouded his cerise eyes scared him. Never before had he seen such an emotion in the red deeps. He knew he'd fucked up now. Dave was stalking closer, spitting venomous words that were just what Karkat deserved and he knew it. 

"I was there for five years. Five fucking years. You want to know during what period of time you were writing me? The first four months and two weeks. Four and a half months out of the sixty months I was there. Do you know how many times I wrote to you without response? Of course you do," at that point he had bent down the letter that had been previously discarded on the floor held tightly in his hand. "You know exactly how many times I wrote. You just just never fucking read them."

With that Dave stood up and walked out of the house. The door was slammed shut behind him and Karkat was plunged into the darkness of the house. He say there shaking, unable to move. Tears slid down his coffee colored cheeks and his nails dug into his arms, tearing at the flesh covering him. He was in the wrong. He knew he was. 

****

Karkat had sat there in the hallway of the house for god knows how long. Shaking he stood up. Tears blurred his vision as he reached for his jacket and opened the door to the outside. It was dark now. 

'I can fix this. I can make it better,' he thought as he fumbled with the keys of his car. 'I'll make it up to Dave. I'll tell him how sorry I am.'

Slipping into the beat up car he rarely drove, he put the key in the ignition and started the engine. 

****

It'd been to long since Dave had been in the little house of his. Nearly everything remained the same. If was nice, just as cozy as before, but it held a slight aura of sadness now. It was gray. 

Dave sighed as he plopped down on the bed and looked at the pictures on the walls. Pain spread through his chest like tar, pouring and pouring until it overflowed, blackening his bloodstream. To think that the sight of the one he held so dear would bring him pain rather than happiness was strange, foreign even. 

Closing vermillion eyes, he pulled off his shades and laid them to the side. It was probably best if he just let the sound of the house settling lull him to sleep. 

****

Karkat drove down the familiar streets. He had a feeling Dave was at the house, where else could he possibly be? He drove restlessly, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 

The tears still trailed down his face, but he could see a little better than before. Soon he realized he was going in the complete opposite direction of what he wanted. Groaning a little, he flipped a u-ie to get on the other road. 

Or at least that's what he had hoped for. Suddenly, there were headlights shining in the car and a honk. Time slowed briefly before speeding back up as terreor filled every fiber of Karkat's body. The cars had crashed head on in a mess of broken glass and smoking engines. Upon impact Karkat shot forward, face connecting with and breaking through the glass of the windshield. He was then abruptly pulled back, body hitting the seat behind him with an unthinkable amount if force. Pain clouded his mind and he could feel blood dripping down his face. 

Karkat had never been so tired before. Reaching up, he gingerly grazed the glass that had been imbedded in his flesh and closed his eyes. A small nap would be ok, he decided.


	20. The End of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave froze in place. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, feel it in the tips of his fingers. He dropped the romote at the sight on the television. It was Karkat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for making y'all wait. I was so busy yesterday so I wasn't able to write. Here it is the last chapter! Woo Hoo! After this I will be starting another DaveKat story because I'm trash, so if any of you feel like reading more of the ducked up shit I write go ahead. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the final chapter!

Dave froze in place. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, feel it in the tips of his fingers. He dropped the romote at the sight on the television. It was Karkat. 

His body was mangles, cuts and open wounds all over his body, predominantly his face. His beautiful face. It was completely slack, like how he looked when he was sleeping, but extremely twisted. There were countless shards of green glass imbedded in the mocha skin. 

It was too much. Dave feel to his knees infront of the television, sobbing. His body shook, hands tearing at the carpet. He was unable to hear a thing, but from the rawness of his throat he could only assume he screamed bloody murder. 

****

He woke up on the living room floor, next to a puddle bile with a pounding headache. The moment he opened his red eyes he remembered what had happened. Standing, he shuffled to the kitchen. 

His pale face was flush with intoxication and his white hair disheveled from the constant tugging and pushing of his shaking hands. There was an empty bottle of vodka laying next to him and a half full bottle clasped in his palm. Tears slid down his face fast and endlessly, dripping onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. 

He lifted the bottle to his lips, chugging what was left then dropped his hand. He stared at a blank spot on the beige wall and sighed, slamming his his head back against the wall door behind him. Once again he lifted the bottle, only this time to find it empty. 

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!" He screamed, throwing the empty bottle at the wall in front of him. The tears came faster as he crawled over to the mess of broken he'd created. 

Picking up the glass, he cut his hand. It a deep cut, blood seeping out from beneathe the skin, pooling in his pale palm. It ran down the paper white skin, creating crimson stains. Never before had Dave hated the color red so much. 

****

He barely ate, ever. His pale skin was stretched almost painfully looking over the bones it housed. He was so thin, so malnurished he looked like walking death. Not that he wasn't though. 

He never left the house anymore, unless it was to visit the grave. Or get more liquor. Though, more often than not it was just for Karkat. Some things don't change. 

In his condition, he looked more like he part of the tombstone rather than a grieving lover. He wanted to integrate himself into the stone, as to never leave his side again. He hated this. He hated himself. 

"it's all my fault. I'm so sorry Karkat. it's all my fault."

****

He sat in the bathtub, fully clothed. The water was flowing out of the faucet, pouring out around him. A bottle of whiskey and a bottle of vodka sat side-by-side on the ledge of the tub. A yellow bottle was clasped in his pale hand. The water rise higher. 

He reached out, turning off the water and leaned back. Carefully, he popped the lid off the pill bottle and peered inside. Ninety pills stared back at him expectantly. Without hesitation, he swallowed the contents of the bottle. Reaching to the side he grabbed the whiskey, opening it and downing the hot liquor. 

He started to feel light, weightless even. His hand seemed to float as he reached out for the bottle of vodka. His vision was fading to gray around the edges. He couldn't grab the bottle, knocking it into the water of the tub. Sloshing around, he finally got the alcoholic poison and proceeded in drinking it all. 

He laid back, feeling the warm water encompass his body. He felt tired, so tired. His vision swayed in and out of focus. Complete black, bathroom beige, an iridescent sky. Darkness, water, purple trees. Void, life, dreams. 

The finality of black took over, consuming the young man. His red eyes slipped closed and he swayed in the tub, life draining from him slowly. Nothingness was all that was left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dave's eyes opened, revealing a strange landscape. Purple trees, an iridescent sky and soft orange sand. He stood up and looked out on this fantastical land and there he saw him. Karkat was sitting in the sand, staring up at the sky, past the multicolored sheen into the space surrounding. He looked up, sensing Dave's movement. His eyes were milky white and filled with sorrow. 
> 
> "Hey there, dick head."
> 
> "Sup, Crab Babe?"


End file.
